Bliss Sinclair walked in from the rain, brushing sparkling raindrops from the sleeve of her gray suit. She stopped and shook herself like a cat. More droplets scattered, flying from her large haloing Afro to the carpet that lined the main lobby of the Volk Publishing building. People walked around her, some watching her display with amusement. Others were too focused on the clock, already beginning to chime nine a.m., to pay her any attention. She shrugged again, to better settle the jacket on her back and shoulders, and headed for the bank of elevators at the rear of the lobby. The gray carpet muffled the sound of her footsteps as she stepped into the chrome elevator and pressed the button for the twenty-third floor.
Just as the doors began to close, a woman slid quickly between them. She brought with her the light, mossy scent of Chanel #19 and nodded briefly at Sinclair before staring ahead at the mirrored wall of the elevator.
Despite her coolness, the woman immediately drew Sinclair’s attention. She was a clever mixture of elements. Her hair was tamed Africa, thick and permed to tumble to her shoulders in shiny waves that framed her square-jawed, Anglo-Saxon face. Freckles sprinkled like brown sugar over her nose and cheeks. As Sinclair watched, a hint of a smile pulled at the woman’s full mouth. She was beautiful, Sinclair decided. And her creamy milk and coffee skin looked delicious in silk.
“Hello.” The woman’s voice was a velvety southern drawl.
Sinclair slid her gaze to the elevator doors, embarrassed to be caught staring. “Hi.”
The woman took Sinclair’s reply as an invitation and looked fully at her travel companion, her mouth still curled in that almost-smile. “Do you work here?” she asked.
Realizing that the woman wasn’t offended by her blatant ogling, Sinclair relaxed. “Yes, on the twenty-third floor.”
“You must do some pretty expensive work for Volk to be that high up in the building.”
“Not really, just a little accounting.” Sinclair turned to look at the woman. “What are you doing here?”
A real smile captured her mouth. “I don’t look like I work here?”
Sinclair figured that honesty was best in this case. “Not really.”
“Then I must be a writer coming to meet with my editor.”
“Ah. You’ve been published by us before?”
“A couple of books. Essays.”
“Hmm.” Sinclair sized the woman up again. She didn’t seem at all like the intellectual type. Rather like one of those hard-edged business women, in her tailored silk pantsuit. “I don’t read much non-fiction, although I’ve been meaning to start.”
“That’s funny that you say that. I could never really get into fiction.” The woman’s mouth twitched. “I’m Regina, by the way.”
“Sinclair.”
Regina nodded just as the elevator doors slid open. “I guess I’ll see you around.”
“Sure.” Sinclair watched the woman walk toward an unfamiliar cloister of offices. She blinked when the gunmetal gray doors closed, cutting off her view of the silk clad backside gliding down the hallway.
“Baby got back.” Sinclair coughed when she realized she’d said that out loud. Still, she chuckled to herself as she stepped out onto the twenty-third floor and down the carpeted hall to her office. Shelly Romero, her secretary, was already at her desk when Sinclair walked in. Shelly looked like a child who’d come in for ‘bring your daughter to work day’ and just stayed. Dark hair in two pony tails, glitter eyeshadow from the kids’ section and barely-business attire. She was a liberal arts college graduate, still safely ensconced in her twenties and with ambitions of being a published poet. That ambition was what drew her to Volk Publishing three years ago and the belief that as long as she had some link with the publishing house she had a chance of having her first book published by them. As far as Sinclair knew, Shelly was still unpublished.
“Good morning, Shelly.”
“Don’t you look cheerful this morning?” Shelly grinned and handed over a large stack of mail. “Did you get lucky?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” A smile shadowed Sinclair’s mouth.
“Only if it involved more than one girl. Otherwise save it for the boys in the break room.”
Sinclair rolled her eyes then stepped away as Shelly’s phone rang and the secretary turned to answer it. Ever since Sinclair had “accidentally” walked into a lesbian bar uptown and ran into the younger woman over a year ago, they’d become more open with each other. Shelly was the closest thing she had to a friend in this city.
In her office she put her briefcase and purse away, humming a light tune under her breath. When she found herself tapping her feet to the same song as she opened the mail, Sinclair laughed softly, wondering at her sudden good mood. An image of the woman in the elevator immediately came to her. So what? Regina was an attractive woman. It wasn’t like anything was likely to happen between them. Though a girl could dream…
Bliss, Available Now.